The dawn light pricked my eyes, and though I'd slept soundly, a knot of worry twisted in my stomach. Lin Jian wasn't beside me. Panic bloomed, a sharp, cold dread. Where had he gone? My heart hammered a frantic rhythm against my ribs.
I stumbled out of the tent, searching for any sign of him. My gaze swept the clearing, the silent forest, the distant mountains. Nothing. Fear clawed at my throat, a suffocating monster. Was my inner demon awakening? Had I hurt him somehow? My breath came in shallow gasps, my vision blurring. The red aura pulsed around me, a tangible manifestation of my mounting fury.
But before I could be consumed by it, a voice cut through the haze. "Yinou? Come on, say something."
I spun around, relief washing over me like a tidal wave. It was him. The rising sun glinted off his hair, making him look almost ethereal. "It's still dawn! Maybe still night! Where have you been?" I demanded, my voice trembling.
"It's already morning! Good morning." he said, his smile dazzling. "What a weirdo," I muttered, rolling my eyes.
I turned to go back inside, but he stopped me. '
"Here, protect your skin with this." He handed me a hat, a veil woven into its brim. "The sun will be extra hot today. We should wear these," he explained. "It's a good thing, though. There will be a lot of stars tonight."
"Stargazing, what do you say?" I suggested, a small smile tugging at my lips.
"No. We should get going, and get there as soon as possible," he said, his tone firm.
"Killjoy," I mumbled, but resigned myself to the fact that stars weren't that exciting anyway.
Before we set off, he was tinkering with something.
It was strange—he wasn't training or polishing his blade like usual. Instead, he sat cross-legged beside a fire, brows furrowed, hunched over something in his lap like a kid sneaking candy.
I wasn't going to bother him… but I'd never seen him so serious. Too serious. Naturally, that made it my business.
I crept up behind a slanted trunk, leaning just enough to peek. He was turning a half-formed glass flower in his hands. It shimmered faintly under the firelight, still rough around the edges, petals uneven. Clumsy. But delicate.
Huh. That's almost… sweet?
He didn't even look up as he said, "You breathe like a thief."
I blinked. "I don't breathe like a thief."
"You do," he said, still not looking. "Same sneaky rhythm. Short inhale. Pause. Step. Long exhale. You do it every time you think you're being clever."
I stepped out from behind the trunk, arms crossed. "I wasn't sneaking."
He finally looked up and smirked. "Uh-huh."
My eyes flicked to the flower. "What is that supposed to be?"
He held it up with mock pride. "A flaming lotus."
"It looks like a crumpled dumpling."
He gasped, clutching it to his chest. "How dare you insult my masterpiece?"
I hopped onto the slanted trunk, settling above him like a queen on her perch. "Seriously, though. What's the occasion? You finally confessing your undying love to someone?"
He tilted his head, all too smug. "Maybe."
"Ooooh," I sang. "Who's the lucky victim? That poor soul needs to be warned."
He stood, dusted himself off, and climbed up to join me, leaning against the branch beside me. "Maybe it's for someone who talks too much. Gets under my skin."
I raised an eyebrow. "Wow. So romantic. Are you gonna throw that glass dumpling at her head or hand it over with a death threat?"
He chuckled. "Wouldn't be the worst way to say I care."
I snorted, shaking my head. "You've got issues."
He leaned a little closer. "So do you."
The banter slowed. Our eyes locked, and for a second, it was quiet—except for the wind rustling through the trees, the distant hiss of snow melting on fire.
I narrowed my eyes and smirked. "You're getting that look again."
"What look?"
"The one that says, 'I want to kiss you, but I don't know if I'll survive it.'"
He blinked.
I leaned forward, close enough to count the gold flecks in his eyes. "Are you scared?"
He held still, jaw clenched.
"Because I'll have you know," I whispered, placing my hands on either side of him, boxing him in, "if you're going to kiss me, you better do it right. None of that breathless, soft stuff. I'm not a porcelain teacup."
His eyes narrowed, a challenge sparking.
"Who says I wanted to kiss you?"
"Then don't," I shrugged, pulling back—just a bit, like I was calling his bluff. "Coward."
"...What did you just say?"
"Coward. You heard me."
He exhaled a laugh. "You're playing with fire."
I smirked. "Then burn me."
That was all it took.
He surged forward, kissing me like he'd been holding back for centuries. It wasn't gentle. His mouth was hot and urgent, hungry like he needed it to breathe. One hand tangled in my hair, the other gripped my thigh, pulling me flush against him on the narrow trunk.
My thoughts scattered.
I tried to push him—maybe out of shock, maybe to pull him closer—but my hands got lost somewhere between his chest and his jaw. He kissed like a war. Like a promise. Like a threat.
When he finally broke away for air, I gasped, lips swollen, heart hammering.
"You—!" I started.
But I teetered.
The trunk creaked beneath me, and I lost my balance.
He grabbed me just in time, steadying me by the waist.
"Careful," he said, breathless. "You were about to fall."
"Thanks for the update, genius," I snapped, blushing furiously. "Whose idea was it to start a makeout session on a tree branch?!"
He grinned. "Yours."
I gaped. "You kissed me first!"
"You challenged me first," he said, smug.
I scowled. "You're impossible."
"And you love it."
I punched his shoulder—lightly. "You taste like smoke."
"You taste like trouble."
I rolled my eyes. "We're not doing a poetry battle."
"I'd win," he said smugly.
"You'd trip on your own ego."
He leaned in, brushing his lips against mine again, softer this time. "And you'd catch me."
I stared at him, heart racing. "Don't tempt me."
He smiled. "Wouldn't dream of anything else."
We began our journey, the silence broken only by the rhythmic thud of our horses' hooves. A few minutes into the trail, I noticed my horse faltering. "Wait. My horse, it's not well."
Lin Jian halted, his brows furrowing as he examined the animal. "It's sick," he said, his voice devoid of emotion. He then proceeded to remove the horse's gear and lead it away.
He returned a short time later. "I killed it," he said simply.
I remained silent for the rest of the ride, my gaze fixed on the horizon. Lin Jian rode beside me, his horse now carrying both of our gear.
We passed a shimmering lake, and Lin Jian dismounted, scooping water into a leather pouch for me. The sunlight danced on the surface, refracting into a thousand shimmering diamonds.
A quiet peace settled over me, momentarily forgetting the harsh reality of our journey.
That night we settled on a mountain hill, started a fire and went fishing for dinner.
The fire crackled merrily, casting a warm glow on Lin Jian's face as he concentrated on grilling the fish. I was famished, my stomach growling louder than the flames.
To ease the tense atmosphere I said, "You shouldn't have killed the horse. It was kind of cute."
"You believed it?" he let out a small laugh. He lied?
He handed me a flaky piece, and I eagerly took a bite.
A choked gasp escaped my throat. "Ugh!" I sputtered, my eyes watering. Lin Jian's hand instinctively came to my back, patting firmly.
"Careful," he began, but I cut him off. "It's so bitter!" I cried out, the awful taste clinging to my tongue.
"What are you, a drama queen?" Lin Jian's hand dropped back to his lap, an exasperated roll of his eyes the only response he offered.
Minutes later, I choked again, this time for real. A fishbone lodged stubbornly in my throat. I clawed at my neck, my breaths becoming ragged whistles. I saw Lin Jian watching me, a bored expression on his face. He probably thought I was being dramatic again. But I couldn't breathe, couldn't stop the panicked shudders wracking my body.
Suddenly, my vision swam with black spots. The pain in my throat intensified, morphing into a searing agony that spread throughout my body. I fell to the ground, thrashing, a strangled cry escaping my lips.
Then, I wasn't myself anymore. Lin Jian's concerned face swam into view, blurry and distorted. My vision was tinged with red, rage coursing through my veins. Oh no! It's the curse. I leaped at him, a feral snarl ripping from my throat, pinning him to the ground. My hands, no, claws, raked across his chest, again and again. His blood splattered against my face, metallic and hot.
"Blockhead.." a choking voice managed to uttered, "Wake up, you'll really kill me in this state..."
And then, abruptly, I was back. The rage receded, leaving behind a chilling emptiness. Lin Jian lay beneath me, his chest a mangled mess, his breaths shallow.
"Sorry...A-Jian, sorry.." I scrambled back, horror flooding me. I had hurt him, again. But this time... this time felt different. The blood staining my hands, his pained gasps, it all felt terrifyingly real. Where had I seen this before?
Memories, fragmented and sharp, pierced through the fog in my mind. The dungeon, the fear in his eyes as I attacked him, his desperate pleas for me to fight the curse. It was exactly like this... It wasn't a dream. It all really happened.
I had attacked him and killed several of his men that day he brought me into the dungeon...I lived worry free, thinking it was all a dream. That and this was reality.
Guilt, heavy and suffocating, constricted my chest. I saw the same disgust, the same fear in his eyes that I had seen that day in the dungeon. He looked at me like I was a monster. And maybe I was.
Panicked, I fled, his heartbroken gaze burning into my back. I ran until my lungs screamed for air, until I collapsed beneath the sheltering branches of a giant oak. I needed to regain control, to suppress the demon within.
But even as I focused my energy, my mind returned to Lin Jian. I had to see if he was alright. My heart lurched painfully when I found him. He was barely clinging to life, his skin ashen, his breaths shallow and ragged.
Panic seized me. I couldn't lose him. Not like this. Not because of me.
Without hesitation, I channeled the immortal energy residing within me, pouring it into his broken body. It was a desperate gamble, one that left me feeling unbearably drained, like I was fading away. It didn't matter. He had to live.
As the last vestiges of my energy flowed into him, a single tear escaped his closed eyelid.
I held him the way he used to hold me—when the curse gripped my body and tore through my mind, when pain was the only thing I knew. His embrace had been my anchor then, the warmth that tethered me to this world when everything else was crumbling. And now, with trembling arms and a heart that felt far too fragile, I wrapped him in the same way. I wanted to return that comfort—to give back the one thing I always remembered through the haze: him.
I was terrified. Of death. Of the unknown. It was so much more frightening than I had ever imagined.
But I was also a sinner.
And the deepest sorrow was not that I might die—it was that I wouldn't be able to help him anymore. Not after everything. Not when he still needed someone to hold the pieces together.
So I leaned in, my breath shallow, my heart breaking.
I kissed him.
Not a whisper of a kiss, not a farewell, but one full of all the ache and desperation in my chest. It was passionate, almost feverish—a kiss that begged the world to give us more time, a kiss that spoke of everything I hadn't been able to say. My lips found his, and for one suspended moment, I poured every ounce of love, of regret, of hope, into him. It was a kiss that clung to life.
And then—
A faint sound.
A steady, rhythmic thump.
His heartbeat.
I froze, lips still barely brushing his, my eyes wide.
Relief hit me like a crashing tide—fierce, overwhelming, and raw. Tears blurred my vision, spilling silently as I pressed my forehead to his.